Flying (or not flying) by the seat of our pants

I am a notorious planner, addicted to schedules and reliant on lists. Besides making the unpredictability of next year almost more than my slightly neurotic personality can handle, it makes the adventure that I am currently undertaking entirely uncharacteristic. I’m sitting in the Miami airport, 7 hours into a 5 hour layover, considering exactly what I have gotten myself into for the next four days.

Getting a little archaeological field experience by taking Archaeological Field Methods abroad in Spain 7^th block is all part of the master plan: experimenting within the four sub-fields of Anthropology to make myself as marketable as possible post graduation. Even heading over a few days early to get a little spring break post-thesis and pre-class relaxation was planned. However that is exactly where the planning ends.

Usually by this point, I would have specific directions constructed, typed, and printed. Everything from transport between the airport and hostel to a complete itinerary of sites, museums, walking tours, and nap times. No joke. I’m telling you, I am a great planner. But not this time.

Probably a product of both a lack of time and an inability to comprehend that I would be international for 7^th block, I could not find the time nor the urge to plan this trip to Barcelona. I think I managed to convince myself that it would plan itself. My planning started at the airport when I picked up a pocket guide to Barcelona, read two pages, and decided to look at the rest on the plane (probability this will actually happen: slim to none. I am exhausted from sitting in an airport all day).

By this point though the plane has taken off and there is literally nothing I can do to remedy the fact that I am woefully unprepared. Nothing for it but to surrender to the unknown and embrace the inevitable. Nothing like a little personal challenge before I get my academic challenge on.

So let the spontaneity begin and hilarity ensue.